


What Could Have Been

by Minute24



Series: What Could Have Been [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Angst, I Made Myself Cry, I'm Sorry, M/M, lots of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-08 19:10:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18900847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minute24/pseuds/Minute24
Summary: Lance Kogane is alone. He knows his team is gone. Only, when his disabled shuttle is rescued from space, it seems like he's given a second chance. But is that what it really is?





	1. The Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story! I hope it goes alright and I would love some comments on what y'all think!

     They’re gone. Lance doesn’t want to admit it, but he has to. He’s been stuck in his transport shuttle for four days now, slowly spinning through space. No food. No water. No power. It doesn’t really bother him though. Not after what’s happened. He can’t see the wreckage of the castle anymore. Honestly, he’s sort of glad that he can’t. Lance thinks he probably would have gone insane by now if he was still near it.

     He knows he’ll probably die out here. He stares out the slightly cracked glass of his pod into the vast expanse of space and lets out a dry chuckle that quickly has him clutching his ribs with bloodied fingers. Who would have thought he’d go out like this? He’d grown up by the ocean. One would think he would have drowned in the middle of the sea instead of space. Then again, they weren’t that different.

     Both were enormous voids that expanded beyond most people imaginations and had things lurking in the unexplored deep. _Comforting,_ Lance thinks with another pained wheeze. Maybe it was irony that was going to kill him.

     He falls silent. There was a pretty large difference though. In the ocean, when no one spoke, you could still hear the water below you. Hear the waves, hear the fish rise to the surface, hear the occasional aircraft fly over. Here there is… nothing. His shuttle shut down during the attack so there wasn’t the constant hum of the ship. There was no way that his team would ever speak through his communications headset again. Even if the castle could be repaired, it could be several quintants before anyone found him. Hell, even now Lance would be lucky if anyone came through this quadrant for years.

     So, he was alone. In the silence. He looks at the blood streaking his raw fingertips and winces. The cause of them line the exit to his pod, slightly crumpled inward and impossible to open. Lance knows; he tried to claw his way out those first few hours until the pain and exhaustion had forced him to return to his chair. But he hadn’t slept. No, he just watched the wreckage slowly spin past, the occasional flash of color among the white metal making his breath catch in his chest. But eventually his pod drifted away from it all. Just another piece of junk in space.

     Lance lets out a groan. His leg throbs where it’s resting. Maybe…. Maybe he should just blast his way out. His bayard still works. He could probably take his gun and break the windshield. But there was no guarantee that his helmet was in condition to handle open space. His microphone had cut out when his head had smashed against the side of his chair during the wormhole leap. _That’s why you couldn’t talk to them. That’s why you couldn’t console him in his final –_

     His rifle sits in his lap, loosely cradled in his hands. Lance doesn’t want to look at it. It could kill him. But did it really matter if he died being sucked out into space? What was it compared to him just waiting for it to creep up on him in this infernal metal coffin?

     His fingers tighten. Slowly lifting it to his shoulder, Lance peers down the scope. The tracker can’t lock onto anything other than far off stars. _It’s not like you’ll miss, dumbass._ He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

     The sound of thunder rattles the shuttle. A shadow blocks out light from the sun that Lance thinks is somewhere above him. He slowly lowers the gun as the cabin is flooded with light, the entire pod jerking upwards as if being pulled.

 _A tractor beam_. _Someone found him_.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

     Nothing happens for the longest time. Lance can’t see anything outside of his viewing port, it just faces a blank metal wall, pristine in its absolute nothingness.

     He stares at the broken panel in front of him as a mechanical voice suddenly echoes in his cabin. “State your name.”

     “My name is Lance Kogane,” his words catch, raspy after days of disuse. “I am a – I _was_ a pilot of Voltron.”

     The robot voice doesn’t say anything for a few minutes. At least, it feels like a few minutes. Everything feels long and drawn out and pointless anyways. The light flashes again, “State your purpose.”

     His purpose? He didn’t have a purpose. He was supposed to die among the stars, just like his team. Just like… Lance flinches away from the light that explodes in the cabin. The voice speaks again, “State. Your. Purpose.”

     “My team and I were sent to a distress signal on the planet Gaivon. It was supposed to just be a dispute between local cities so we didn’t take the lions. But the Galra had cloaked their ships and attacked as soon as we landed. We managed to hold them off and got off the planet in our shuttles but – “ _The acrid smell of smoke. The screams in his headset. Watching Hunk and Pidge’s shuttle be torn apart in the vacuum of space as Galra fighters shot towards Keith and Shiro. The buttons and warnings flashing across his ship as it lost power._ “We didn’t make it. Allura opened up a portal for the castle and those of us who could get there but Haggar was in one of the battle cruisers and she contaminated the wormhole. I got sucked in and when I woke up… Everything was destroyed.”

 _Not everything. You haven’t told them about –_ “Shut up,” Lance hisses quietly. He sits in darkness for a while, waiting for that voice to speak again. Waiting for _something_ to happen. The dull headache spikes as that light flashes through eyelids he hadn’t realized he’d closed. The sound of screeching metal feels like it’s personally carving through his skull, but he watches as the door cracks open, a blinding white obscuring anything on the other side.

     “You can come out.” The voice sounds familiar. Why does it sound familiar? Then again, with as many planets and aliens that Voltron had saved over the years, it shouldn’t be surprising. Groaning, Lance gets to his feet. Everything hurts. His head, his ribs, his what he suspects is a broken leg. Hobbling forward, he winces and covers his eyes as he gets to the exit. He crouches and blindly lowers himself to the stupidly white floor. Who the hell needed a floor this white? It almost looks like the castle, but… the castle is gone.

     Lance clears his throat, “Thank you for helping me. There’s not much I can do, but I’ll repay you somehow.”

     “We don’t need any payment.” The voice makes Lance freeze. _No. Nononono._ Ignoring the pounding in his head, he squints at the blurry figures standing in front of him. They start to come into focus and suddenly it’s hard for Lance to breathe. Air rattles from his chest as their leader steps forward, expression wary. “Lance. Do you know where you are?”

     Shiro looks younger. They all do. There aren’t as many scars silvered across their skin and Hunk isn’t as slim as he should be. Pidge pushes those glasses up her nose, looking out from behind Allura and Coran. Wait. Coran went to go establish a new Altean colony, he shouldn’t be here.

     Allura crosses her arms. “Are we sure this isn’t a trap? This could be another one of their clones.”

     Mind reeling, Lance clutches at his side as he leans against his shuttle. “No. You can’t be alive. I watched – I watched you all – How is this – “ _These aren’t my people._

     “We should put him in an observation cell. Until we know what’s going on.”

     That voice comes from his right. He slowly turns until he makes eye contact with the shaggy black-haired man loosely holding his sword only a few steps away. Purple tinted eyes watch him in suspicion. It’s Keith. But not _his_ Keith. Something in Lance crumples and he tries to take a step forward on his broken leg, but pain spears up his body and it’s dark again.


	2. The Team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little longer. Please leave comments on what you think!

_“Can you hear me, Lance?”_

“It should only be a few more ticks before he’s cleared!”

_“I’m so sorry that we never got to go back to Cuba together. I really wanted to meet your family. I really did. If only to see what sort of family would raise such a quiznacking guy like you.” A quiet chuckle._

“Are you sure he’s going to be alright? He seems distressed.”

_“We always said our goodbyes before each mission just in case, but we didn’t do it this time. Did you notice that, Lance? I guess we thought we would be back on the castle before anything really happened.”_

“You’d be a little distressed too if you went through what he did. The injuries he sustained… They match his story. And we’ve been getting reports of a massive debris field only one movement away from where we picked him up.”

_“I’m running out of oxygen. My suit lost its blasters so I’m just drifting right now. I don’t even know if you’re alive, really. I know the others aren’t, I’ve seen their bodies.” A sharp inhale as if holding back a sob._

“So, what do we think it is?”

“Could Haggar have created a portal to another reality? Like that ship we found that one time?”

“Well, we know it’s not our Lance.”

_“I guess I’ll just have to make our goodbyes now. I’ll see you on the other side. Whether on a planet, ship, or death, we’ll see each other again. Just try not to be too late. Lance, I know you complained that I never said it enough, but you need to know that I really do love – “_

A blast of fresh air. Strong arms catch Lance before he can hit the floor. Gasping, he stares at the boots surrounding him, all familiar but not. He manages to push himself until he’s standing on his own two feet by himself. Shiro still extends a hand in case he needs it. Running a hand over his face, Lance asks,

“What happened?”

“You passed out. You’ve been in the pod for two quintants.” Pidge nervously looked up at him from where she stood. Her next words are blunt. “We think you’re from an alternate reality.”

“Most likely.” He ignores the surprised looks on their faces and sits on the steps, “Am I the only one you’ve found?”

“We’re heading to some coordinates of a battlefield that no one’s reported. We think that’s where your ship may be.” Keith’s voice stops in front of him, asking, “Why do _you_ think you’re in an alternate reality?”

Lance slowly raises his eyes. His teammates’ faces stare back at him, ranging from confused to distrust. He sighs and runs a finger over a thick scar winding over his forearm, “When Allura opened the portal for us, there was an arc of magic from the Galra ship. It… The wormhole looked like it warped somehow. And when we – I – arrived on the other side, I didn’t recognize any of the star positions.” He can’t help but give them an amused snort, “Plus, I’m twenty-six and I look like hell compared to your fresh faces.” They all seem to start at that.

“Well you look great, buddy. Real space-pirate-y and all with the scars… and stuff.” Hunk gives them a sheepish grin as they look in disbelief.

Wincing, Lance gets to his feet. He wobbles slightly and Keith’s hand reaches out to steady him. He flinches away from the contact, turning to Allura and Coran instead. “How far are we from the debris?”

“Two movements away! We might be able to get there sooner if we cut through the Borion system but it’s about as unstable as a Porgarian winklesnatch – “

“Lance, the drones that we sent to investigate while you were healing reported… the entire ship is gone. Nothing could have survived the wreckage.” Allura’s voice was quiet.

“Just get us there. I have bodies to collect.” The others seem to cringe back at his stiff words, but Lance can’t let it bother him. His team, _his_ team, deserves to be buried. It’s the least he can do for them after all this time. “If I go to my room, am I going to find myself in there? Your Lance?”

This team that isn’t his falls quiet. No one looks at each other until Shiro sighs, “No. Our Lance was…. He died during our mission to protect a shield station a few years ago.”

_Oh._ He nods, “I barely survived that one myself. I’m sorry for your loss.”

They all nod but Allura says, “We should be saying the same to you. You just lost your entire team. That’s nothing compared to our loss.”

Keith’s face contorts into something like rage. Before he can say anything, Lance whispers, “My loss does not equal yours, nor yours to mine. We all have our own struggles.” Spinning around, he strides as well as he can from the room and into the empty hallways of the castle.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

They circle around each other for the first few days. Lance doesn’t blame them. He doesn’t know what to do with these people who aren’t his, who shouldn’t be alive, but are. He gets along with Pidge and Hunk first. The third night there, he can’t sleep and heads to the kitchen for something to eat. A familiar glow from the engine room causes him to unconsciously call out, “Go to bed, Pidge. It can wait until the morning!”

Something clatters to the floor. He winces as he remembers that this isn’t his teammate. She probably does this all the time. He shouldn’t have said anything. She sticks her head out, eyes wide as he walks past. “Oh. Lance! Where are you going?”

“I haven’t eaten anything in a while and i couldn't sleep. You should probably get some sleep.”

She nods but follows him down the hall, leaving whatever project she was working on behind. They see the kitchen door lit up and then hear a loud exhale of… something, followed by an explosion of hot air and Hunk’s yelling.

“OW. Ow ow ow ow, oh quiznacking OW.”

Lance has pushed Pidge to the floor, his bayard slipping into its sword form as he sprints for the kitchen. He nearly runs over Hunk as he’s walking out, and Hunk lets out a yelp at the sight of Lance brandishing his weapon within stabbing distance. Pidge scurries behind Hunk and they both stare as Lance scouts the kitchen.

“Are you okay? Was someone here?”

“No! No, I was just trying to make some garlic knots!” Lance turns in surprise and Hunk twiddles his thumbs together, “They were – our Lance’s favorite food. I thought maybe you might like them too? If our realities aren’t that different, that is. I could be toootally wrong, but I couldn’t sleep, and food makes me happy so – “

“Hunk, I’d love some garlic knots.”

He pauses and then a megawatt smile explodes on his face. “Garlic knots it is!” The three of them spend the night baking and laughing over old stories that might be a little different from one another but still have the same emotions. The rest of the team finds them when morning comes, half asleep but happy.

Coran seems to take it all in stride. His upbeat attitude was the same in the other reality and it isn’t long before the others are smirking at Lance’s glazed eyes as Coran explains what a whiffling cuncklehorder is in great detail.

Shiro and Allura don’t seem to know what to do with him. Lance wonders whether or not their former teammate was as childish as he was when he’d first started as a Paladin. He hopes that their Lance managed to keep that attitude while he was alive. He finds Shiro studying star maps and battle tactics one evening and gives some opinions and ideas that could help. They spend a few hours talking about Galran defenses and what Shiro plans to do to defeat Zarkon. Lance doesn’t mention that his team had already destroyed most of the empire. With Allura, he stays a respectable distance away. He can’t help but fire off a few pick-up lines towards her, especially when she gets riled up over something insignificant, but he does no more than that, responding to her questions as politely as he would to his mother. Lance notices when her eyes start to follow him after a few days, a dull blush crossing her cheeks, and decides to stop with the easy flirting.

The last teammate follows him around constantly. He lurks behind corners, behind doors, behind anything that can hide his lean frame. Keith constantly plays with his knife, eyes never leaving what Lance knows is an intruder into his team. Lance knows it shouldn’t bother him, but he tenses every time he hears the others voice and his fingers curl on the table when the quiet paladin enters into any room. Quickly leaving after he arrives isn’t smart, especially when the others are still closely watching him, but Lance can’t…. He can’t…

One quiet afternoon, Lance finds himself on the training deck. No one else is around so he starts on level one, taking his time at shooting the stationary targets. But slowly the difficulty increases, and he’s forced to start moving as the bots begin firing back. His bayard slips seamlessly between sword and rifle depending on what he needs until it all just becomes a blur of successful take downs and an occasional missed target that uses bruising as punishment. He doesn’t know what level he’s on, but the program sends out a hulking monster of a bot, one that towers over Lance’s head. After several minutes of firing from a distance, it suddenly lurches forward, too quickly for the bayard to change and Lance lets out a roar as he swings his rifle. It collides with a _clang_. The bot goes to the floor from the impact and then the butt of the weapon is crushed into its head and chest repeatedly until it stops moving, the chime signaling the end of the round.

There’s a quiet gasp behind him. Spinning to his feet, Lance levels his rifle on the group watching from the doorway. After a moment, he lowers the gun and walks towards the rest area. They all saw him. He probably looked like a savage compared to their usual tactics. “Sorry you had to see that.”

“That. Was. Awesome!” Pidge and Hunk run forward, slowly followed by Shiro and Keith. They babble on as Lance strips his soaked shirt and then suddenly, they all fall silent, eyes wide as he wipes the sweat from his face. He turns in confusion and sees them staring at his skin. Layers upon layers of thick scars spread out across his chest and back from all those years as a paladin.

“What – where did you – Lance, where did you get all those scars?”

His easy smile tightens but he shrugs at the others. “Our healing pods malfunctioned pretty early on after the lions were found. They could close most of our wounds so we would survive, but we had to heal on our own for the most part. And the scars would remain.”

“Woah. So like, that cool eyebrow and mouth scar?”

“Face got beat in by one of the Galran beserkers.”

Hunk lets out a gasp, “What about the big one on your arm?”

“Burned during a firefight on Zarkon’s main battleship. I was out for a solid month after that.”

“The one on your spine?” Shiro seems concerned about the number of wounds more than anything. Lance gives him a sharp grin,

“Fell off my surfboard in Cuba and it fought back.”

They all explode into laughter. While he drinks, Keith speaks from the back, “What about your chest?”

“ _Lance, oh quiznack, I’m sorry! Look at me! You need to stay awake! Lance!”_

He doesn’t need to look at the piece on the left side of his chest. He already knows what the thick bundle of scar tissue looks like and he could probably trace the winding marks as they creep over his heart and down his ribs.

“ _Lance, please you need to stay with me. I need you! I need you to stay alive!”_

“Lance?” A voice from his memories but also the present. Lance stands and meets the suspicious eyes that slightly flicker with concern. Keith glances down at the scar again, “How did you get that one?”

“You shot me.”


	3. The Wreckage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the somewhat graphic chapter. As always, please leave comments! And I'm only posting one more chapter after this

Lance draws away from the team the closer they get to the coordinates. They seem to understand, offering their presence even if they don’t speak. Keith stays to himself more after the unexplained incident in the training room but he’s still not too far. It’s one day away from reaching the wreckage and Lance takes a nap to soothe his nerves. A part of him hopes that when he wakes up, he’ll realize it’s all just been a dream but when he wakes up, he’s still in the same barren room of his dead predecessor. Sighing, he gets to his feet and starts looking for someone to hang with.

No one’s in the kitchen. Nor are they in the observatory or the command room. Lance wanders around the castle silently, peering into various rooms and wondering where the Paladins were. Though he tenses before opening the door, he frowns when Keith isn’t in the training room, slicing the heads from holograms. _Maybe he doesn’t do that in this reality_.

Something _klangs_ from down the hall and Lance starts towards the loading bay. What would they be doing down here? Unless it was just Hunk and Pidge tinkering around with his old shuttle. They’d been ecstatic to get into its processor and learn what the other reality had done. It likely did have some upgrades that they hadn’t thought about yet. It would be good for them to update their systems any way they could. Smiling, he turns through the door,

“Should I be concerned that the two of you can’t keep…. your hands – “

Hunk and Pidge are laying on the floor. There should be blood pooled around them because of the holes torn in their suits but there’s nothing. Pidge has her mouth open in a deformed scream; jaw dislocated to the side underneath her helmet. Hunk almost looks peaceful under the shattered screen of his.

A loud curse comes from in front of him and he blankly looks up. Shiro and Allura hurry to cover the charred remains that Lance assumes are Coran and Allura herself. Shiro moves forward and grabs Lance’s arm as if to push him from the room but he digs his feet in, still staring at the bodies.

“Where’s your Hunk?”

Allura exchanges a look with Shiro before pointing at the ceiling. “We sent him to his room. He wasn’t… dealing well.”

“Good. Good.” Distractedly, he moves to stand between his Hunk and Pidge, vision blurring as he crouches and touches their chests. The metal is cold under his shaking hands, but he wipes away the space dust as best he can. “I’m so sorry, guys. I should have done more.” Forcing himself to stand, he turns as a large figure is carried through the decontamination chamber by Pidge and Coran. Shiro is frozen as they lower the familiar black accented armor to the floor.

Coran is surprisingly quiet as Lance approaches, but Pidge can’t hold back the sounds of crying in her helmet. He pulls her into a hug and stares at his former leader from over her head. Shiro had promised the team a break after this mission. He’d promised there’d be no team exercises or anything, only fun and the closest thing to a beach that they could find that wouldn’t melt their skin when they went swimming. Instead, his Galran arm had been torn off, the wires sticking out from the twisted stump. His neck is twisted in an unnatural angle and his helmet must have come off in space because his face is sunken into the bones.

Handing Pidge over the very alive Shiro that she deserved, Lance takes a deep breath, “Anyone else?”

Allura whispers, “He’s on his way.”

As if to confirm her words, the decontamination doors sound an alert as someone enters from the space side. Noise pounds at the inside of Lance’s skull as they wait for the doors to open. He can’t do this. He can’t see him. He can’t –

For a moment, he almost convinces himself that the man standing in red armor is his Keith. That he’s alive and there won’t have been a need for his last goodbye because he’s _here and he’s alive._ But the one that’s walking forward is smaller than he should be and is holding a body in his arms. Lance is moving before he knows it.

Pulling the battered figure from Keith, Lance collapses to the floor with his teammate, stiff hands tearing at the helmet that’s frosted over his face. “Keith. Keith Keith _Keith!_ ” It finally clicks open. He could have been sleeping. His violet eyes are closed and the only sign that something was wrong is how his skin is starting to feel like parchment. Lance runs frantic hands over his best friend’s face, praying for him to start moving. “Please, please _God_ , look at me! I need you to say something!” Tears are starting to land on the dirty armor, but it doesn’t matter because he’s not moving. Struggling for air, Lance crushes his lips to his lover’s, letting out a sob against their familiar dryness. “Please, I love you! _You weren’t supposed to leave me alone! Not like this!_ ”

A hand lands on his shoulder. He lashes out, ignoring the pained yelp that followed. Gripping his Keith to his chest, he cries out, “Leave me alone. Just go!” When another hand tries to pull him away, he looks up and roars, “GET OUT OF HERE!” An answering roar echoes from where the Lions are resting, filled with agony and rage from a lion that hasn’t moved since her last Paladin died. The team that isn’t his team slowly files out, leaving him in peace. He gently caresses the face of his soulmate and begins humming a lullaby that used to make his friends smile before noticing the pair of boots still standing in front of him.

The Keith that is not his Keith is frozen, face drained of color and staring at the two at his feet. He struggles to form the words, “You and Keith. You were… you were…”

“Please go.” The quiet request seems to explain whatever he needed. The hangar door is closed behind the last of this realities Paladins and finally, _finally_ , Lance is left to mourn his own.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

They’re buried on the shores of a planet similar to Earth. It’s barely the size of Earth’s moon and has two suns but the water is a clear blue and lush vegetation covers the land, even if it’s all an odd maroon color. Lance didn’t allow the others to prepare the bodies or dig the graves, working out his pain through calloused hands around a shovel and the feel of colored silk slipping from his arms and into the ground before being covered back up.

The living Paladins spread out across the planet for research materials, documenting anything unknown. The only one that stays has violet eyes that can’t seem to look away from Lance. The last grave has the best view, one that can see the curves of the ocean and the rising of both suns. The red silk is the hardest to let go off but eventually it’s covered too and a large stone marker rests at the head. Sitting next to it, Lance starts to talk. “It’s not as nice as Cuba but I think it’ll do. I left just enough space next to you so maybe, when I go, this team will come back and bury me here too. I’m sorry but I’m probably going to be late. Like usual.” A broken laugh bubbles from his mouth. He listens to the waves crashing somewhere in front of him.

The sand crunches behind him and he curls in on himself as a voice that belongs to a dead man asks, “What will you do now?”

He stays silent for a moment. “I don’t know. I should try to get back to my reality but… I don’t know if I can.”

“I’m sure you could use a lion. I don’t think any of us would mind.”

“I won’t leave you with no chance to form Voltron. Besides, I have nothing left over there.”

“What about your family? On your Earth?”

A pain aches in his heart. His family…. He’s been gone for over eight years in his own reality. They likely think he’s dead. And the thought of no longer being a part of Voltron, of trying to be normal on Earth is too confusing. Lance shakes his head. “I have nothing.”

The Paladin sits next to Lance and he finally looks at the younger face of the man buried on the opposite side of him. He doesn’t bother trying to hide the tears running down his cheeks and Keith bites his bottom lip as if in thought. Lance turns back to the sea, closing his eyes against the burning breeze that passes over them. They don’t say anything. The two suns begin to set, throwing sharp reflections across the shore and plants.

The sounds of the others coming closer draws Lance from his daze. Drawing his legs closer to his chest, he flinches as a hand gently touches his arm. “You have us, if you want it.”

They don’t wait for a response before going to meet the arriving Paladins. Lance stares out past the water, watching as the stars begin to show in a fast approaching night sky.


	4. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! A little distressing as well but what do you've made it this far so it's your own fault by now. I just posted a one-shot explaining the whole scar thing so feel free to read that if you want to know more! Let me know what you think!

Pidge starts screaming in the middle of the night. Lance lurches from his bed and sprints down the hallway, running before he’s even awake. The castle shakes under his feet. Sliding to a stop in front of a window, he cries out at the battle happening outside. Three shuttle pods are dodging beams shot from Galra cruisers, attempting to make it back to the loading bay. One of them is clipped by the purple light and Hunk’s voice echoes,

“I’m hit, I’m hit! I need back u – “ The craft suddenly tears itself in half, his voice cutting out from the silent explosion just in front of Lance.

“NO!” He slams his hands against the glass. Turning, he races for the dock, shoving aside a shadowed figure that lets out a startled shout. The tunnel to Blue isn’t where it should be, but Lance has to do _something_ and makes his way to the shuttle bay instead. A smear of blue paint marks where his pod is located in the back, the door already open.

Only… he’s already in space. Lasers are crossing in front of him and he’s trying to get his shuttle to respond to him, but the controls are dead under his hands. Spinning around, he wrenches open a panel and begins connecting wires, praying to whatever there is that he’ll get power.

Shiro’s coms turn on in the cabin, “I’ve got three on my tail! One of them is coming up fast, I need someone to help!”

"I’m coming in hot! Hold on!” Pidge’s shuttle zooms past the windshield and Lance can’t help but watch as it collides with one of the Galra ships. Spinning out of control, they smash into the other cruisers until the green pod is nothing more than twisted metal and the other ships are lifeless.

Lance pushes himself towards the controls. Nothing. His friends are dying, and he can’t do _anything_. He cries out as an errant beam crashes into the front of Shiro’s shuttle. The windshield shatters and a limp body is carelessly shot into space. He pounds his hands on the controls. He barely notices his fingers bruising or the blood coming from the cracked skin. A flash of red from in front of him makes him freeze. Raising his head, he stares at the Paladin standing on the opposite side of the glass.

“Keith.” All of the horrors seem to be set aside, at least for the moment. Keith is here. He’s alright.

“Lance, what are you doing?”

“What do you mean? I’m trying to help. You need to get inside!”

“You aren’t supposed to be here.”

He flinches at the words. Keith looks… different. And he hasn’t used that tone on Lance in years. Lance shakes his head, “Please, Keith, you need to get in here! It’s not safe!”

This Keith turns to look over his shoulder, looks at the carnage behind him. At the Galra cruiser bearing down on them. “Something’s wrong with you. I’m going to go find the others.”

"No. NO! Keith, please you need to – you need – “ Splitting pain explodes behind Lance’s eyes. Crying out, he sinks to the floor. Something shuffles next to him seconds later and a hand is trying to pull his face up.

“Lance? Can you hear me? Are you alright?” The concerned eyes that meet his are all wrong. A quick glance around shows him to be in a dark shuttle, still inside of the bay. The smooth walls of the castle jolts him back to where he is, and Lance lets out a deep breath that he didn’t know he had been holding.

Keith is still touching his face, inspecting him with furrowed eyebrows. Wincing, Lance leans against the base of the pilot’s chair. They younger man hesitates before sitting across from him. “Were you seeing things?”

Huffing, Lance scrubs his hand over his face, “I was watching the attack. It was happening all over again and… Goddess, I should have died with them.” He lets out a groan.

There’s a stunned silence. Then, “What. The Hell. Are you talking about?”

Lance doesn’t respond. How can he? He’s thought it ever since the battle. He’d been willing to risk his life by shooting his way out of his shuttle, for goddess’ sake. Because no matter what happened, he was still the last of his team.

Keith grabs Lance’s arm, “You wish you were dead?!”

“Constantly.”

Ignoring the lazy finger gun pointed his way, Keith yells, “Do you have any idea what you’ve done for the team? I haven’t seen Hunk and Pidge this happy in years! You managed to get Shiro talking about something other than Voltron just last week! And you’ve been filling in an empty space that we really needed filled.”

“I am NOT A REPLACEMENT!” The harsh words send Keith reeling back and, for once, Lance sees something like fear in the young man’s eyes. He rarely ever yelled at his own Keith and seeing this one so stunned makes him curl back in on himself. His voice is much quieter, “I am not here to replace the Lance that you lost. And as much as I wish it, you aren’t – all of you will not replace the ones that I just buried.”

Neither of them speak. It feels like hours before the castle comes to life around them, preparing for a day cycle. Lance moves his stiff muscles and is surprised to find that, even though he drifted off, Keith is still there. They make eye contact and Keith uncrosses his arms with a weary sigh,

“Have you thought about what you want to do next?”

Lance stares at his slightly swollen hands. “I think I’ll travel. Go and see the galaxy a little bit until I can find something to do.”

“Have you thought about being a part of Voltron again? We still need a blue paladin.”

 “I talked to Blue about it.” Keith starts and Lance smirks. “She was glad to see me, even if I wasn’t really her pilot. But she agreed that I probably need some time away from all of… this.”

Keith nods. He gets to his feet and offers a hand. It’s smaller and not as calloused as Lance knows it eventually will be, but it still makes him smile as he’s helped up. Wiping his rumpled sleep clothes down, Lance looks around the cabin. He’ll be in another similar to this very soon. Only now he’ll be leaving the paladins willingly and instead of dreading what comes next, it’ll be something new each day.

Keith steps outside. Turning back, he raises an eyebrow, “You want to come get some food?”

Lance nods his head, “Yeah. Breakfast sounds good.”


End file.
